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“I said I’d collect you at dawn.”

Bemused, he watches the tear’s progress before frowning and lifting a hand to wipe it away. He grimaces at the movement, and together, we look down at the hole in his chest, which Lou’s magic still has not healed.

“What do we do?” I ask in a hushed voice.

He still lies flat upon his back, and I still lean over him, pressed entirely too close and probably covered in blood all over again. His head falls upon the parquet floor with a hollow thunk. “I need blood,” he says simply.

“Oh.” I nod hastily.Oh God.“Oh, right—”

“No need to look so frightened, pet.” He grimaces again, fingers exploring the mangled mess of his chest, before struggling to sit up on his elbows. “Arielle is waiting for me in Odessa’s room.”

“What?” I resist the urge to scowl, helping him rise and ignoring the sharp pinch in my stomach. “But—you’re meant to be dead.Odessais meant to have killed you. Isn’t it rather dangerous to bring Arielle into the subterfuge too—for all three of you? Er, that is—” My eyes widen at the sudden possibility. “Odessaispart of the subterfuge, isn’t she? And Lou and Dimitri? This”—I gesture helplessly down his body—“was all part of some brilliant and hitherto secret plan no one included me in for reasons you’re about to explain? And it’ll preferably return the revenants to the grave and mend the veil too?”

I add the last part hopefully.

Michal falls back again, closing his eyes with a strangled laugh. It ends in a cough. “No. I mean—yes, Odessa assisted with the planning and coerced Lou into participating. I assume Dimitri stepped in when you refused to remain out of sight. But no to everything else.” He cracks open an eye to look at me as high, unearthly voices rise in harmony with the music outside. “Melusines,” he says at my unspoken question. “It seems not all the villagers will mourn my passing.” He looks disgruntled at the thought. “Odessa will be intolerable.”

I help him up again, and this time he drapes an arm across my shoulders; I wrap both of mine around his waist. “And just how,” I whisper with a glance at the door, “are you planning on reaching Odessa’s room without being seen? This place is crawling with vampires—”

His chin jerks toward the gallery overhead. “There’s a passage.”

“A secret passage?”

He flashes a grin, and at the sight of it—so natural and unguarded, sounexpected—my stomach swoops to somewhere around my knees. “Actually, we chose this room because the passage upstairs leads to a stage in the Old City, where a dozen minstrels wait to herald my miraculous return from the dead.”

“Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Michal.”

“But itisstill wit, Célie.”

At my scowl, he winks—he actuallywinks—before bending his knees in preparation to—what? I follow his gaze to the balustrade and realize his intent. Michal is going tojumpwith a great gaping hole in his chest, and—I hasten to bend my knees too, to support him as we leap from the floor below to the railing above. Though I nearly stumble, startled at the speed with which I just moved, Michal seizes my shoulder to prevent me from falling.

“This passage connects to a dozen others in the castle to form transportation channels and escape routes for the royal family. As the last members of that family, Odessa, Dimitri, and I are the only ones who know of them.” His jaw clenches tight with pain. “And now you.”

“Are you all right?” I ask in concern. “We shouldn’t have—”

“I’ll be fine, Célie.”

I allow him to lead me to the center panel behind the musicians’chairs, where he slides his fingers beneath the trim on its edge and swings the entire thing open. With some trepidation, I peer into yet another dark and dank passage. “Don’t think this absolves you from excluding me tonight.”

“I require absolution?”

My face snaps toward his in disbelief. “I just held your heart in my hand, Michal. Yourheart. Worse still, I spent most of the evening thinking you were—”

His eyes search mine as if seeking an answer for something. “Dead?”

“Yes,” I hiss indignantly. “Murderedby one of my only friends in this wretched place.”

Again, I glance toward the door. If any vampires wander too near or turn their attention too close to this room, the entire charade will come tumbling down on their heads. Shaking my own, I push him into the passage as gently as possible before swinging the panel shut behind us. We plunge into total darkness. Though I can still see well enough, I instantly regret the loss of light—or rather, the way my other senses heighten in its absence. The scent of Michal is enough to scramble my thoughts on a good day, let alone while clutching each other in the dark.

When he eventually speaks, his voice rumbles from beside my ear. “I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you about tonight, but Odessa... she preferred we didn’t involve you.”

“Why?”

To his credit, he does not lie. “No one judges you for it, Célie, but you’ve made your distaste for Requiem known. This isle is Odessa’s home.” A pause. “Myhome. Quite simply, Odessa didn’t involve you because you didn’t need to be involved, and I deferredto her judgment because I spent most of the night dead upon the floor. For the plan to succeed, she needed to feel confident in it—and in her ability to make these decisions without me.”

“So she’ll just—what? Pretend to be queen until the two of you decide otherwise?” Then, before he can respond: “Whydidyou decide to do this? Does it have something to do with the revenants?”

With slight pressure on my shoulders, he tries to start up the passage, but I dig in my heels, forcing him to stay here until he answers the questions. With a sigh, he says, “Odessa doesn’t need to pretend. Sheisqueen. Our performance tonight might not have been real, but the transfer of power was. I ceded the throne when I arranged for my public execution. For all intents and purposes, Iamdead.”